Stormy Nights
by Belief Among Unrest
Summary: A monstrous storm, a frigid Hermione, and a new side of Draco Malfoy never seen before.


Hey guys! Here's another Dramione entry for you crazy Draco/Hermione lovers ;D Aren't they so perfect? I thought so.

I'm working on other pieces using this beautiful couple, and I hope you'll visit my page occasionally to see them :3

And I would like to thank you for all your support! If it wasn't for all the reviews on my last oneshot like this, this one might not exist. Hey, this should be a tradition now . . .

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Thunder boomed, shaking the very walls of the castle so the windows quivered and the floor vibrated beneath one's feet. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room as if a _lumos_ spell had been cast from several peoples' wands. Anyone in their right mind would be curled under the covers, or sitting by the windows watching the white light streak across the sky, dragging their fingers along the cool glass.

But Hermione Granger was never quite considered to be in her right mind.

While her friends all gathered somewhere in the Gryffindor tower, drinking hot chocolate and talking about goodness-knows-what, Hermione stood outside the comfort of the castle walls, soaking from head to toe, her face raised to the sky with lips parted and eyes closed, arms extended from her sided like a bird preparing to take flight, hair matted to her forehead and neck, not a care in the world.

The rain beat down relentlessly, drenching every bit of skin exposed, and every bit hidden by clothing, sodden and frigid from the night's storm. She cared not, only focusing on the numb and the calm and the world that slowly spun away from her as she breathed in the night and the rain, heard nothing but the pitter-patter on the surrounding stones and the thunderous roar from the skies above. Brilliant light flashed behind her eyelids, and colors danced across her vision as a bolt imprinted itself there. Tiny droplets slipped past her opened lips, tasting of sky and cloud and freedom.

It was here at this moment that she finally felt relieved from everything. Gone were the war, her Head Girl duties, the prick she had to share a dorm with, as he was the Head Boy, her studies, the pressure of her N.E.W.T.S., and the constant bickering of her friends, Harry and Ron, as they followed her like lost dogs, begging for help on their assignments and tests and notes.

Not that she would have minded this much any other year, but now, in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the pressures mounting with Head duties combined with the rest of the usual struggles concerning the warfare and her learning, the irritation was an unavoidable part of life. She loved them, truly she did, but she was not their mother. She was their friend, and she couldn't do everything for them.

Which is why she was out here, to forget, she berated herself, spreading her arms farther out around her, catching beads of rain on her fingertips. She would not dwell on anything; tonight, she would simply live.

Minutes, perhaps hours later, the cold chilled her too much for her to bear. The comfortable numb that first separated her from her thoughts now caused violent shivers to rack her bones. Resigning, she trudged up the path to the main doors and slipped inside, tracking puddles of rain down the school halls until she reached the portrait that led to hers and the Head Boy's common room.

"Pax," she muttered, and the portrait swung open, revealing the nice little room that contained a warm fire and two plush chairs surrounding it. As the portrait shut behind her, she noticed that one of them was occupied by none other than the bane of her existence, most confusing adversary, and alas, the boy she had called a reluctant truce with. One that wasn't particularly upheld, but he refrained from calling her "mudblood," and she restrained herself from casting any particularly nasty curses his way. Yes, this is the boy you are thinking of.

Draco Malfoy.

Hoping he hadn't heard her entrance, she trod lightly across the room to get to her room, but was stopped when he spoke up from by the fire.

"Enjoy yourself?" The voice was uncharacteristically quiet and soft, unlike the usual irritating drawl that spewed forth from his mouth when he mocked or taunted her.

She turned around, and saw him turned slightly toward her, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She nodded at him, already shucking off her drenched sweatshirt.

"You're soaked," he commented.

"Observant one, you are," she replied jokingly, smiling a bit at him from across the room. He almost smiled back, but seemed to remember himself, and turned to face the fire again.

The smile gradually fading, the peace still resting pleasantly in her heart, Hermione went into her room, closed the door, and changed into some pajama's, tying her hair up into a loose ponytail and wrapping a small blanket around her shoulders. Exiting the room, she went and sat in the chair next Draco's, settling back into the plush material, trying to warm the deep cold that still caused her to shiver.

Even after spending quite some time trying to warm by the fire's glow, she still shuddered with the frigidness inside of her. An unexpected hand brushed over her wrist, no doubt feeling the tremble in her bones.

"Merlin Granger, and here I thought you were smart enough not to go outside in a storm." Though the words were reprimanding, the tone was gentle and surprisingly good intended.

"I think it's w-worth it," she said, stuttering a bit through chattering teeth.

There was a sigh, and a mumble about crazy girls, before she watched him get up and come to stand in front of her. He nudged at her feet, and though confused, she moved them to the side. Then, surprisingly, he sat right on the chair next to her, wrapping an arm around her to pull her into his chest.

She sat rigidly, not even shivering in her sudden stiff shock, listening to the steady heartbeat right underneath her ear. It pounded rhythmically, beating in a way that comforted her more immensely then she thought possible from anyone, much less Draco Malfoy. And he was _warm_, by gosh, so very warm. Against her usually stubborn and analytical brain, she relaxed, snuggling closer to his heat, closing her eyes and breathing in his wonderful scent.

_Wonderful?_ She asked herself, suddenly realizing that the two were unrelated. But the side of her brain that didn't want to think and just wanted to nestle into him and relax said that she should stop looking at it so closely and do just that. So she did.

After a long while, filled with silence but for the crackle of the flames, Hermione's head found it's way to Draco's lap, where his hand stroked her hair in an absent gesture that seemed both new and comforting to them both. She only reflected once more on how odd this whole situation was, before lapsing back into this state of contentment.

She could feel sleep tugging at the corners of her mind, trying to pull her down into a sated world of unconsciousness, but she didn't want to leave this moment of tranquility with Draco.

_With Draco._

She couldn't help but smile a little. What a weird night.

Ignoring the nag that seemed to want to draw her into nothingness, Hermione turned over so she could look up at him. He had his eyes closed, but his hand stopped stroking her hair so that it could cup her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone. She sighed inaudibly, closing her eyes and, at last, falling into oblivion.

The last thought that punctured her brain was soft voice of someone whispering, "Goodnight."

xXxXxXx

Soft rays of light penetrated the wonderful world of sleep that had claimed Hermione for itself. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the world outside of her warm bed, she snuggled closer into her pillow, blocking out all thoughts of ever getting up again.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she realized that her pillow was, in fact, _not_ a pillow. Sudden dread crept up her stomach when she remembered the events of the night before. Merlin save her, did she actually _cuddle_ with Draco?

A better question: was she _currently_ cuddling with Draco?

Slowly, she peeked out one eye, looking up through her lashes to see if it was the truth.

Damn it. It was.

He had both arms wrapped securely around her, his cheek resting atop her hair, holding them so close together that almost every part of their bodies were touching.

The worst part was that it felt so _nice._ Normally she would have slapped herself at the thought, but jeez, it felt beyond good to be held in the Slytherin's arms, pretending that nothing existed outside this little bubble they had created for themselves.

Another thought seized her quickly. How the hell did she get into a bed? And why was Draco in it with her? The thought both puzzled and horrified her.

She felt him shift underneath her. Instinctively, she shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. He chuckled right next to her ear.

"Sleep well?" He murmured, his breath stirring the hairs around her temple.

"Mhmm," she mumbled into his shirt. "How did we get here, and did I do anything I'm going to regret?"

He laughed quietly again. "You didn't do anything worth regretting, unless you consider begging me to stay with you in your sleep when all I did was carry you to bed regretful."

Hermione groaned, blushing. "Define begging."

He pretended to be thoughtful. "It went something like, 'please don't go, please don't go.'" She could hear the smirk in his voice. "It was rather endearing."

She raised her head out of his shirt, lifting her eyes to meet his. "And you stayed." It was a statement, but also a question.

He swallowed. "Yes," he spoke hesitantly.

"You didn't just leave. You didn't roll your eyes and leave me for your own bed. You stayed . . . because I asked you to." She wasn't quite sure where she was going with this, but it felt like it meant something to her that he did what he had.

His face suddenly seemed a lot closer. "Yes," he whispered. "I did."

"And . . . was it just . . . out of pity?" She asked slowly, her thoughts turning to mush the closer he got.

"No," he said, their foreheads now touching, noses brushing up against each other's. "I did it because I wanted to."

"Oh," she said dumbly, entranced by the sight of his eyes right in front of hers. "And—"

"Stop analyzing things, Hermione," he all but growled. "Just let yourself feel." And he moved to cover her mouth with his.

At first it was nothing, a hesitant touch, waiting to see how she would respond. And when she did, all tentativeness was lost. All there was, was Draco in front of her and the bed on her back, his hands around her waist and hers running up through his hair, lacing behind his head and pulling him more firmly down against her. Nothing existed but the two of them.

"Well that was . . . unexpected," Hermione panted when they had broken apart.

Draco smiled at her. "I've been wanting to do that for a while now."

She could barely contain her surprise. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," he mumbled, bending down to nuzzle the crook of her neck with his nose.

"How strange," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"Definitely."

A pause. "So," she said casually, "it's Saturday. Have any plans?"

He raised his head again. "No. Why?"

"Well, if no one is expecting you, we have no reason to leave . . ." She trailed off at the gleam in Draco's eyes.

He smiled slyly. "I like the way you think."

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Reviews are always very much appreciated :D (Hint hint)

Hermione: I always thought I was supposed to end up with Ron ?:/

Draco: That's no surprise

Hermione: You cocky son of a-

Draco: Language!

Me: Oh, just go make out or some thing -.-

Draco: :O

Hermione: :O

Me: What? We all know you wanna . . .

Hermione: We do not!

Draco: Well . . . ;D

Me: I'm always right.


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